The Fine Line
by The Duckster
Summary: Ron/Hermione missing moment. Another night together at Grimmauld place, Hermione asks to sleep with Ron to ward off more nightmares and He is happy to oblige. Awkward moments abound, also Ron's sort of an adorable idiot and a randy git *shrug*
1. Part 1 of 5

Title: The Fine Line part 1 of 5

Fandom: Harry Potter

Characters:Hermione/Ron

Prompt: 18 - Black

Word Count: 1297

Rating: T

Summary: Ron/Hermione missing moment. Another night together at Grimmauld place, Hermione asks to sleep with Ron to ward off more nightmares and Ron is happy to oblige.

Author's Notes: This was going to be a one-shot but it was so long I couldn't even hand the idea of proof reading all 10,000+ words so I opted to split it up each time there is a pov switch. I'll post them as I finish proofing them. I think this is they shortest one, but you have to start somewhere yo!

**The Fine Line**

part 1 of 5

Hermione paced the room nervously feeling the smooth worn wood cold beneath her bare feet. She was at a complete loss as to what to do. She had experienced one of the best moments of her nights last night when Ron had crawled into bed with her after the terrifying nightmares. The memory of the warmth of his touch sent her heart racing. She wanted it again. She had to have it again. It would be completely unbearable to just lay feet away from him when all she wanted to do repeat the previous night.

They had a system, an undiscussed routine. When they went to bed each night they entered their shared room in number 12 Grimmauld place, Ron would grab his pajamas and head into the bathroom across the hall to change. Hermione stayed in the room and changed as quickly as she could and settled into bed with a book before Ron returned. Her current pacing was already a departure from tradition.

She had dressed ridiculously slowly hoping Ron would come back before she was finished. Not that she specifically wanted to give him a show, though she had played around with the idea in her mind a little. It was more that her bed terrified her now. The thought of crawling into the cold fabric all by herself brought back visions of the nightmares she'd only fought off the previous night by his warm skin next to her. A constant reassurances that he was whole and safe. That he was not laying lifeless on the floor or writhing in agony, begging for his own death under the arduous torture.

It was the mixing of these desires that overwhelmed her. She knew she could handle just fear on it's own, and she was well practiced at resisting her body's longing ache for Ron, but the combination of both was too much. To know with absolute certainty how gentle his caresses would be, the chills it would cascading down her body and calming her every fear just by the warm breath he released on to her neck, it made sleeping alone just feet from him an unbearable possibility.

So instead of crawling into her own bed she was walking back and forth, her head swimming with half finished sentences each sounding more ridiculous then the last one. She needed a plan, something that didn't seem like she was trying to get him into bed with her, which was exactly what she was doing. She knew it was foolish and that if ever pressed upon the matter she would outrightly refuse to admit it but she'd put on the most alluring thing she could sleep in that was still her regular nightwear.

A thin cotton vest that had shrunk a little due to her lack of laundry experience. Ron was a breast man, she had caught him more than once ogling other girls as well as herself and felt this would be more to his liking than the over sized T-shirt from the previous night. She preferred to sleep in the long shirt because then she could go with out pants. Tonight she wore over sized shorts, too large for her small frame so she rolled the elastic hem several times making them short on her thigh and low on her hips.

Her last item had been an insistence on her last shopping trip with her mother. Knowing she wouldn't see her mother for a long time, _if_ she ever saw her again Hermione broke with tradition and let her mother drag her from store to store without her usual complaint or the constant annoyed sigh. They'd purchased her gown for the wedding and her mother had insisted on matching knickers as well. It had been humiliating to walk through a lingerie store with the woman who'd given her life and listening to comments about what sort of things her own father was partial too. It took all the love she held for her mother not to give into her base desire which was to put her foot down that her knicker situation was perfectly adequate and she was ready to leave.

Instead she stayed, smiling as sincerely as possible as her mother managed to find a pair of sheer lace panties the exact shade of the dress they purchased. Hermione wondered momentarily if all the fashion designers and fabrication companies had quarterly meetings to match up the shades just so as a conspiracy to get you to buy everything. As she considered this her considerably too joyous mother brought her back to reality by picked up a scrap of fabric so little it might have once been a real pair of knickers but had been tossed into a paper shredder and this was just the satin remains ready for a proper burial. Mum had giggled at Hermione's horrified expression and responded by shaking the little bit of fabric side to side excitedly.

It had taken all her will power not to barrel out of the store right then but she just smiled and nodded as her mother talked about VPL's. Didn't her mother know school robes didn't bring up any VPL situations. The offensive underthings had too been tossed onto the ever growing pile she held in her hands. She hadn't meant to bring them really but felt she had to, just to prevent the horrified look on Molly Weasley's face if she ever went through that trunk she'd left at the burrow and while she'd considered vanishing them she just felt it would be wrong to do such a thing to one of the last gifts her mother had given her. How in the world she'd gotten sentimentally attached to a designer pair of barely there knickers was beyond her but it too had ended up in the beaded bag.

She'd had to pull the tag off when she pulled them out of the bag that night, it had felt very odd at first but she fairly quickly grow used to the sensation and anytime she began to feel ridiculous about it she just concentrated on the longing she felt the previous night when Ron fingered the edge of her boring white cotton briefs. She'd wished then she had something more enticing on then the pair of 'granny panny's' as Ginny had dubbed them.

She was brought out of the lingerie reverie by Ron opening the door. He walked in without looking up but stopped in his tracks half way to his bed as he saw her. She felt silly just standing in the middle of the room scantily clad in what she now knew was an obvious attempt to visually tempt him with what was admittedly her bony frame and too skinny ankles. She felt the conflicting desires to dash under the covers to hide her exposed flesh and slam him down on the bed to ravage him. Instead she just stood there saying nothing feeling like a fool. She felt like he could see right through her and her pathetic attempts at seduction. The feeling just got worse and worse as he stood there, froze mid way to his bed still holding his denim's and shirt bundled haphazardly in his arms.

They were silent like that for a moment. She watched him as he looked at her, his eyes studying her, raking over her clumsy figure. If she weren't filled with such mortification she would likely laugh and tell him to stop bobbing his mouth open like a fish. When he spoke his voice startled her.

"Hermione, are those my kegs?"


	2. Part 2 of 5

Title: The Fine Line part 2 of 5

Fandom: Harry Potter

Characters:Hermione/Ron

Prompt: 63 - Summer

Word Count: 2041

Rating:T

Summary:Ron/Hermione missing moment. Another night together at Grimmauld place, Hermione asks to sleep with Ron to ward off more nightmares and Ron is happy to oblige.

Author's Notes:Notes: This was going to be a one-shot but it was so long I couldn't even handle the idea of proof reading all 10,000+ words so I opted to split it up each time there is a pov switch. I'll post them as I finish proofing them. I think this is they shortest one, but you have to start somewhere yo!

**The Fine Line**

part 2 of 5

"Hermione, are those my kegs?" Ron's mouth asked before his brain was able to process the question. His mind conjured up images of her slipping them down her hips and letting them drop to the floor as she asked _'would you like them back?_'

He'd had enough trouble over the past several years keeping these mental fantasy's at bay until he was able to indulge in them at more appropriate times. This whole day had been a special sort of torture though. It had been his turn to stake out the ministry and he'd been under a heavy clock in the summer sun sitting for hours watching an entrance that was really only used in the mornings, a little bit at lunch and then when everyone left work. He'd had hours to just sit and think of the previous night. Hours to ponder about her soft flesh and they way she'd closed her eyes and gasped for air as he slide his palm alone her thigh.

"Oh uhm, yeah I guess they are. I nipped them out of the bag our first night here. I didn't have any shorts to sleep in and it was too hot for my pajama bottoms, personally I don't know how you and Harry can stand sleeping in this heat with long pant on." As she spoke she stopped looking at him and began to play with the odds and ends left on the dresser by the houses former occupants. Ron didn't say anything, unable to come up with a decent way of saying he didn't think she'd have approved of him sleeping feet away from her in just his kegs, which was his typical sleep attire this time of year.

He shrugged and finished walking over to his desk. He didn't know why it was so shocking to see her standing there. They'd shared this room for weeks but she'd always been well hidden under her blanket when he returned from changing. A few times he'd considered rushing back quickly just to walk in on her but was afraid that would convince her to sleep in another room and so he'd made sure to give her plenty of time.

He couldn't place his finger on it but there was just something different in her behavior now. She was flushed or just not relaxed or something. He was comforted by this slightly, she'd been completely normal as they ate dinner at the long kitchen table with Harry. Kreacher bustling around them serving excitedly while they discussed different strategy's of breaking into the ministry. It was like it hadn't been a big deal for her, like the best night of his life hadn't even registered for her. So seeing her now , fidgeting, shifting her weight from one foot to the other made and playing with the potentially lethal nicknack's on the dresser, made him feel like she just might not have brushed it off as nothing.

He sat on the edge of his bed and began folding his clothes uncharacteristically. They were dirty clothes no less, why was he folding them? But he had to keep his hands busy, it helped him beat down the panic he felt. He needed more time before slipping into bed too. He'd been thinking about it all day and hadn't come up with a single plausible way of getting them to sleep together again tonight.

"It's a little cooler on my side, closer to the window and all. If you'd like to switch I wouldn't mind." What Ron had_ really _wanted to say was _'If you'd like to join me I wouldn't mind'_ but he chickened out.

"Oh that's very thoughtful of you, but I wouldn't want to displace you." She turned away from the dresser and leaned her back against it, pulling one foot up to rest on a lower drawer. He was transfixed by her legs. Hermione was fairly short, especially compared to him but he couldn't help but marvel at how long her legs seemed. They were smooth and still tanned from the summer they'd spent outside and he couldn't help but remember what her thigh had felt like beneath his open hand. Warm and tantalizingly soft, he had felt the thick muscle beneath the surface and he'd imagined how wonderful it would feel wrapped around his body and he thrust into her.

"It might not be as comfy as yours or whatever." Ron murmured unsure of what he was saying. Oh my, did he just bring up sleeping in her bed. He must sound like an idiot going on and on about how much he liked sleeping in her bed. His hands shook slightly as he refolded his shirt for the third time. She crossed the short distance between them and sat about a foot away from Ron.

"Lets see," She said and then pulled her lower lip into her mouth in a way that made Ron wish he could do the same thing to it. She bounced a few times, experimenting with the softness of Ron's bed. It was torture, as she moved her breasts jumped too, lifting and falling more dramatically then the rest of her body. Ron was suddenly glad he had a large pile of fabric piled onto his lap. He felt the familiar stirrings as he watched her supple curving mounds rise and fall inside their thin cotton restraint. He had just wanked in the bathroom not 5 minutes before in order to avoid the very situation he was quickly finding himself in.

"Your bed seems satisfactorily cushy." She declared. Ron didn't know what else to say so he said nothing. Does this mean he should go get in her bed? Should he grab his pillow and move, no he didn't like that idea, this way he got to sleep on Hermione's pillow all night. Her scent wafting over him the whole night, perhaps he could snuggle it and just imagine it was her. "Ron I'd like to speak with you about something."

Crap, what did he do this time? Was she able to read his mind and he was going to get in trouble for imagining pulling her tip of her breast into his mouth? That he wanted to massage the warm flesh with his tongue and nibble slightly until her nipple was pert between his teeth.

"Okay." He managed to croak out as he reviewed the images he'd been going over as he watched her moments before, wondering if there was any reasonable explanation for it besides that he was a randy bastard who spent most of his free time imagining ravishing her body in ways he wasn't entirely convinced he was flexible enough to actually pull off.

"Well, it's embarrassing really." She was looking at the floor as she spoke and began to wring her hands together, something he knew she only did when she was avoiding addressing an issue. "It's just that since that night in the ministry, I've been having nightmares all the time. They're not all as bad as last night but I usually wake up at least once with this sense of dread." Ron didn't know what to say, he too had been plagued by night time horrors but hadn't ever said anything. "Well when I woke up this morning I just felt so rested. It was the first time in a very long while I haven't woken up with this sense of fear or foreboding."

She was very quite when she'd finished her confession and Ron knew that she wasn't going to outrightly ask for what she was hinting at. He knew her admission was already a big deal for her and she wouldn't go any further. His heart was pounding in his chest as he prepared to say the words out loud he'd played in his mind both from her lips and from his own a thousand different times in a hundred different scenarios.

"Would you like to sleep with me tonight?" and he instantly wanted to pick the words right back out of the air and shove them back in his mouth. He couldn't believe with so little forethought on his part he asked her to bed with him. Was he insane? Why the bloody hell did he just blurt out on invitation to his mattress to the object of the entirely of his overly active sexual imagination?

"If you wouldn't mind terribly, I think I'd like that." It took every ounce of Ron's pathetic self control to not jump up and dance for joy. This had to be some horribly sick joke the universe was playing on him that Hermione, _his_ Hermione had just said she'd like to spend the night with him. Ron took a few deep breaths as he fingered the worn collar of the shirt at the top of his pile. What was he suppose to do now? Crawl into his bed and say _'I'm ready for you.'_ He was completely ill equipped to function in this situation.

Fortunately Hermione seemed to have more functional brain power. She crossed the room and grabbed her pillow. As she hugged it in front of her he couldn't help but notice that in doing so it covered the entirely of her clothes and she very well could have been naked. Another of his night time fantasy's was brought to the surface.

He'd laid in his four poster as school envisioning what it would be like if Hermione came to visit him in the night. His favorite had been almost identical to the vision before him. Her bushy hair curving gently down her bare shoulders, wild and begging for his fingers to run through the silky mess. Her long legs visible beneath the white linen case. He pinched the inside of his arm as discretely as he could, making sure this wasn't just the best delusion known to man.

She stood next to his bed again and spoke, her voice bold and defiant. He grinned, he knew that voice, she used it when she was acting tougher then she felt. It was the voice she'd used the first time he'd watched her scolding students as a prefect. The tone she'd adopted as she'd lead the first meeting of the DA.

"Which side of the bed would you like?"

"I don't know." Ron felt his face grown warm at her willingness to be so casually casual about this. "I've never shared a bed before, I mean except for last night." He knew his face and ears would be a bright scarlet now. _'Calm down, it's not like your shagging or anything. She's asked to sleep with you so that she wouldn't have nightmares' _he scolded himself firmly. "How about you take the side closest to the window." He labored to make his voice sound cool and collected.

"That sounds lovely, I'd like that." And so with out preamble she tossed her pillow on the bed and crawled in. Ron watched her stunned as she settle onto his bed, laying on her back as if it was the most comfortable thing in the world.

"I'll just get the lights then." He pointed his want at her bedside lamp. "Nox." and then did the same with his own. He set the dirty clothes down on the floor and rested his wand on his nightstand. He shivered as a cool breeze wafted through the window, tickling his bare chest. He crawling into the bed with her, the sheets already warming at the body within. He copied her pose, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling.

It was uncomfortable, he didn't usually sleep on his back. He was a side sleeper, but laying on either side seemed problematic. Turned toward her could been seen as being too forward, turned away he was closing off the possibility of what they'd delved into the previous night. So Ron just laid there unmoving, silently praying she would move or turn or _something_ that that would allow him to feel her like he had just 24 hours previous.


	3. part 3 of 5

Title: The Fine Line part 3 of 5

Fandom: Harry Potter

Characters:Hermione/Ron

Prompt: 87 - Life

Word Count: 2813

Rating:T

Summary:Ron/Hermione missing moment. Another night together at Grimmauld place, Hermione asks to sleep with Ron to ward off more nightmares and Ron is happy to oblige.

Author's Notes:Notes: This was going to be a one-shot but it was so long I couldn't even handle the idea of proof reading all 10,000+ words so I opted to split it up each time there is a pov switch. I'll post them as I finish proofing them. I think this is they shortest one, but you have to start somewhere yo!

If you enjoy missing moments please join our LJ community! .com/themomms/

**The Fine Line**

part 3 of 5

She felt incredibly awkward. Laying side by side on their backs. She had her hands folded on her stomach in a fashion that seemed like she'd been prepared for burial. He had copied her pose at first but after a few minutes pulled his hands so the were folded underneath his head. She had to do something, say something. She had a feeling that Ron was willing to stay like this all night despite that she knew he always slept on his side. After a few more minutes she finally steeled herself enough and turned on her side facing his, popped up slightly on her elbow so it wouldn't come off as too forward, like she was just turning to him to ask a question.

"Name one thing you want to do before you die?" It was the first thing that popped into her mind.

"You mean besides the obvious? I'd have to think on," But she cut Ron off before he could finish.

"What do you mean the obvious?" she asked fingering the corner of her pillow. Ron moved and adjusted his position to mirror hers exactly.

"You know, the whole not dying a virgin thing, but since attractive available woman aren't usually readily accessible in the mist of battle, nor the time to do it any justice I'll just side step that entirely."

"Oh yes that." She tried not to feel hurt by his statement. Wasn't she laying practically naked in his bed his inches from him? Perhaps she's wasn't what he thought of as 'attractive', her heart sank, she'd just been fooling herself. She'd been so sure he felt the same things for her as she did for him. She fought to maintain her casual composure.

They were quite for a long moment and she relaxed her body from it's propped position on her elbow and settled onto her pillow. Ron did the same.

"This is going to sound really stupid but,"he hesitated pulling that the sheet absentmindedly with his fingers. "But, well, I want to be in love." His voice had grown quiet. Her eyes had now adjusted to the dim light and she could see his fingertips drawing shapes on the sheet.

"You've never been in love?" She asked, the ache in her heart deepened. Hearing this after the hopes she'd carried was too much and she felt the familiar prickling of tears forming.

"I've never been in a relationship with someone I loved, and that's what I want really. I want to kiss her and just get lost in the feel of it," he was struggling for words and it was adorable. "with out any nagging guilt or questions about why I'm doing it. I want to say _'I love you'_ and hear it back. I guess I probably should have said 'to see the Chudley Canons win' or something like that, huh? You probably think I'm a complete arse right now." She smiled, it was lovely how nervous he got when it came to showing emotions outside of Quidditch, how is it he could profess eternal devotion to the worst team in history without any sense of the ridiculous, but showing any sense of depth left him flummoxed.

"Not at all, it's exactly what I want now that you've said it." she whispered quietly into the still dark air. Her fingers began playing with the sheet, mimicking Ron's movements. She drew a little heart with her forefinger. Silence hung between them again, she traced _'I love you'_ over and over again.

"So you weren't in love with Victor then?" Ron's voice was barely audible. It was the first time she'd heard him speak his name without spiting a derisive nickname venomously since the Yule Ball. She smiled a little, impressed by his moment of maturity. She decided she liked Ron when the lights were out. He seemed more courageous, more bold under the cover of darkness.

"No, part of me wanted to be. It would have been rather nice actually, but he was just," she struggled with how to explain her feelings for Victor without openly confessing she was in love with Ron. "he was perfect on paper but there was just nothing there. I couldn't will myself to have feelings beyond friendship for him. There was no spark, he was too polite or something. He'd respectfully disagree with me if he didn't share an opinion on something but that was it, there was no passion in his conviction. This makes me sound like a mad woman!" Hermione knew she hadn't explained herself right. How could she say Victor's eyes never lit up like Ron's did. Victor's touch never burned on her skin like Ron's did.

"No you don't, I get what you mean. Lavender would just nod her head and agree with me on everything, it would drive me nuts. Sometimes I would say the most ridiculous things just to see if she'd argue and she would just smile at me like I was brilliant. It drove me batty."

"Yes that's it exactly! It was just so bland. As much as I tried it to, I just never felt the same about him as he did for me." Hermione saw a wide grin spread across his face by the light of the moon through the window. Neither said anything for a time, each lost in there own wandering thoughts.

She repeated her _'I love you'_ with her fingertips and then traced a _'Roonil Wazlib'_ a few times. Their fingers brushed against each other a few times as they both fingered the sheet. She slowed her hand and rested it on the bed, he did that same. She watched as he inched his hand toward hers, his eyes deliberately looking for anything but their hands to focus on. She felt a shock run through her body as his pinky settle next to her, touching her. She grinned at the tentative move. Her heart pounded in her chest at the simple contact. She lifted her smallest finger and set it on top of his.

"Have you ever been in love then?" he asked, he moved his hand toward her the tiniest bit and he lifted his pinky from beneath hers and place it on her ring finger, intertwining them. "I mean if not Victor, was there anyone else?" She didn't know what to say, the honest answer was _'yes, and I'm laying in his bed you idiot'_ but she couldn't very well say that.

"Yes, I think so." she answered bravely.

"Just not with Krum." It was a statement not a question.

"Not with Krum." She confirmed.

"McLaggen?" Ron asked with a raised eyebrow. She punched his arm and immediately regretted moving her hand from his tentative hold.

"When would I have had a chance to fall in love with McLaggen? Was it sometime between him boring me with quidditch stories and him grabbing me inappropriately under the mistletoe?"

"So who then?" Ron's voice was quiet and he was fingering the sheet again. She reached up and brushed the hair away from his face.

"Well he's smart, and funny, one of the bravest people I know and he's completely brilliant at Quidditch." She rubbed her thumb across his cheek and wondered if she'd said too much.

"So Harry then eh?" To this she punched him in the arm again, actually trying to hurt him this time .

"No! And would you stop guessing! You're picking all the wrong guys." He rubbed his arm, awkwardly since he was still laying on his side.

"Well you can't just tell me you're in madly in love with someone and then not tell me who it is. I need to know who to threaten within an inch of his life if he hurts my Hermione." She smiled at this, wondering if he really was that blind to how she felt about him. She loved it when he said _'my Hermione.'_ it was something he just did sometimes and she doubted if he picked up on it.

"I promise you'll know if this guy deserves a beat down." She chuckled at her own joke. She ruffled his hair playfully but then left her hand resting on his neck, her fingers knitted into his shaggy main at the base of his neck.

"Does he love you too?" His face was a mix of sadness and hope. He lifted his hand and brushed his fingertips along her out stretched forearm, she felt goose bumps form along her body.

"Jury's still out." And then when this comment was greeted with a look of confusion she amended it to. "The Wizenmagot is still deliberating." And his face dawned with understanding. They were quiet for a moment. She loved the feel of him running fingertips lazily back and forth along her skin.

"How can you be unaware of how he feels?" he asked and not for the first time wondered if he understood much more then he was letting on.

"Haven't you ever been completely in love with someone and just been unsure of their feelings?" She looked up at him hopefully.

"Yes well, that's me, and if I remember I have the emotional range of a teaspoon. You on the other hand an decipher all sorts of mixed up crazy emotions." he brushed his hand further up her arm and she shivered. It was like they were having two conversations. One with their words and one spoken with soft touches and gentle caresses.

"It hard for things to be as clear when it's your own heart at stake." She let her hand drop slowly down his neck and onto his shoulder. She stroked a small scar by his collar bone and he emitted a soft moan and closed his eyes.

"If he's not head over heels for you then he's an idiot." he said softly as he ran the back of his fingers along her shoulder.

"I'll be sure to pass that along." she answered breathlessly. She'd tried to chuckle a little as she said it but wasn't quite able, with him his warm touch lingering lightly along her collarbone she found it hard to focus on anything else.

"It's bloody bizarre, the idea of not getting a chance to grow up and have a family. I mean, it's not like I wrote in my diary about what sort of garden flowers I wanted or anything, but I always saw the future as me, my wife and our kids." Ron's features were relaxed as he spoke, like he had accepted the possibility of a lack of future. Hermione felt a deep pang in her heart at his loss of family, what she had often imagined as their family. They'd never discussed anything like this before, she supposed the cover of darkness and impending death could do that to a person.

"So you'd like children?" She asked, fishing for him to more fully paint for her the future he'd envisioned. Hoping she could piece herself into it. She looked at him to find he was watching the movement of his hand along her neck. It was fascinating to watch him looking at her. She felt a flush of pride as his eyes racked over her body. Did it make her a scarlet woman to revel in his lust filled eyes as he watched her cleavage move up and down as she breathed?

"If I live long enough, yeah." She punched his arm again. "Come on, it's not like it's not highly possible. I'm the sidekick Hermione, sidekicks don't have the greatest odds of survival." Hermione's insides instantly boiled with rage and she slapped him across the face so hard her hand was throbbing a bit afterwards.

"Don't you dare Ronald Weasley! Just thinking like that will get you killed. You are not a sidekick any more than I am. We may not be 'the chosen one' but he wouldn't have gotten this far without us. We are who the chosen one chose. Just for clarification's sake, because I'd like there to be no misunderstandings on this point, I plan to live through this. I realize there is the possibility of that not being the case but I have every intention of surviving if I can." Her firm voice broke and she felt tears she hadn't realized were there, spill over onto her cheeks. "And I have every intention of you living too, so stop it." her last words were a strangled mixture of a command and a plea. She looked at him through her cloudy tear filled vision and he at least had the decency to look ashamed of himself.

"You don't see me as just the sidekick?" he asked still not looking back at her. Her face softened at the vulnerably in his question. She placed her hand on his chin and forced him to look at her. Gently circling his chin with her thumb.

"You've have been my hero far too many times to ever be some expendable sidekick. _You_ rescued me from that horrible troll, y_ou_ were the one burping slugs because _you_ defended my honor, _You_ stood between me and Sirius Black, and it was _you_ who tried to protect me in the department of mysteries even though it got you very seriously hurt. It was _you_ who insisted I find Snape that night so that I wouldn't be near any fighting.

"We may bicker and disagree, but it has always been you to whom I whole heartedly trust my life to. You cannot expect to die in this Ron, because I just can't live without you. I need to know you'll do everything in your power to get through this, even if it's just to be my hero another day." he blushed though it was barely visible in the faint moonlight, but she knew him well enough to know that expression. She left her hand on his chin, but it was more relaxed now, less forceful in her hold as she stroked her fingers along his jaw.

"Well when you say it like that it seems all like, impressive."

"Yes it does." She leaned forward slowly, his eyes watching her as she brought her lips closer to him. It was terrifying, like an all or nothing move, she wanted to badly to know what his full lips felt like against her own. To not have to wonder about the taste of his skin. Their gaze never broke as she closed the distance between them and the expectation in his eyes thrilled her. The anticipation of being so near him, this, the long awaited and often imagined kiss.

She watched as he licked his lips in a manner that drove her body into a dizzying mix of thundering heartbeats bellowing in her ear and her unrelenting desire pooling between her aching thighs. She hesitated, hoping he wouldn't make her close the entire distance between them all on her own. Hermione was so sure of this, of his feelings for her, that his body craved this just as much as she did. She was probably 97% sure he was dying as well as she hovered so close to him, waiting for the space between them to disappear.

Only there _was_ that tiny little 3%, that minuscule part of her that thought perhaps it might just be in her head. That he wasn't meeting her lips with his own because he didn't want this to happen. That she'd deluded herself into imagining intimate caresses and loving touches out of friendship and this was all just a case of cabin fever for their weeks in such close quarters. Her heart sank and she felt it drop into the pit of her stomach as she lost her nerve. Instead of their original destination she planted her kiss onto the space between the apple of his blushing scarlet cheek and his soft plump lips. She felt her cheeks flush at her own bold actions but she allowed herself to linger at the contact. Breathing in his distinctive mix of laundry detergent and soap that she identified as him, that she'd opted not to confess to her potions class was her third scent wafting up from the mother of pearl potion. His skin felt so soft and she just closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment.

To her surprise she felt Ron's lips upon her face as well. But when he ended his puckered touch she knew it was time to release her own. She couldn't pull herself away from him though and instead threw herself into him, embracing him tightly and buried her face in his neck.

"You never give yourself credit for how impressive you truly are."


	4. part 4 of 5

Title: The Fine Line part 4 of 5

Fandom: Harry Potter

Characters:Hermione/Ron

Prompt: 38 - Touch

Word Count: 37340

Rating:T

Summary:Ron/Hermione missing moment. Another night together at Grimmauld place, Hermione asks to sleep with Ron to ward off more nightmares and Ron is happy to oblige.

Author's Notes:Notes: This was going to be a one-shot but it was so long I couldn't even handle the idea of proof reading all 10,000+ words so I opted to split it up each time there is a pov switch. I'll post them as I finish proofing them. I think this is they shortest one, but you have to start somewhere yo!

If you enjoy missing moments please join our LJ community! .com/themomms/

**The Fine Line**

part 4 of 5

Ron's insides were a tangled mix of disappointment and soaring elation. For a few long glorious moments he was sure Hermione was going to kiss him. Neither had broken eye contact as she leaned into him and it had been one of the most revealing moments he'd ever had. As if his deepest feelings he'd kept secreted away from her were written across his face. Ready for her to read as easily as one of her books.

It had been the closest they'd ever had to a real kiss though, he admitted to himself. It was at least a mutual side of the mouth thing. He found it impossible to be totally disappointed though. She had pulled herself into a close hug and her face was now nuzzled into the crook of his neck. Her whispered words into his ear, the warmth of her breath dancing upon his skin had been intoxicating. _'Impressive'_ him, Hermione was calling _him_ impressive. It boggled his mind and his chest swelled at the very idea of it.

He shifted her weight onto him slightly and wiggled the arm beneath his own body under her as well, wrapping it around her so that she was fully in his arms. He liked the pressure of her body against his, after all the exchanged glances and small touches it was like the weight of her small figure against him was something real, something tangible he could hold on that said _'yes it's not in your head!'_ He felt her give what could only be a sigh of contentment and curled her hand around his bicep.

"I feel safe with you, like this." Her quiet whisper into his neck caused a flood of goose bumps to ripple across his skin. He felt the pressure increase in his already straining nether region and he was glad she wasn't directly pressing against it, mostly glad at least. She hadn't protested the night before when it had been pressed against her thigh, a thought that had distracted him for several hours as he sat under the cloak that afternoon, but it seemed as though she was constantly catching him like that these days and he didn't much fancy the idea of being seen as the randy git he most certainly was.

"I'm glad." he whispered back as he used his now free hand to adjust the wild hair in front of his face. He placed his lips on her neck and breathed in her delicious scent, parchment and cinnamon. He wasn't sure if that's actually what parchment smelled like but he always associated her scent with paper and books. He adored having his senses engulfed by her, his Hermione. To his extreme disappointment she moved away from him, that feeling ended quickly when he realized she was merely reaching for his wand sitting on the nightstand. Her full round chest hovering in front of his face.

"Sorry, I can fix that." Ron didn't know what was wrong to fix but he couldn't find a single part of him willing to protest as she lunged her hand toward the wand, causing her breasts to jiggle, actually hitting his cheeks with the soft skin and his only excuse for what he did next was the lack of blood to his brain. Before he had a chance to think or realize how crazy it would be to act upon this impulse he buried his face in her bosom, his chin pulling against the neck of her vest and he rested his cheek against her warm supple skin. Hermione let out a small gasp that Ron could only interpret as shock and was surprised to see a shy smile on her face when she settle back to her old position with the wand.

"I'll just uhm- Accio hair tie." And a small thin elastic zoomed across the room toward her. Her eyes met Ron's for a moment and he watched her, mesmerized as she chewed her bottom lip, the same bottom lip he'd dreamed about pulling in between his teeth and doing a bit of nibbling of his own. He watched her in the pale moon light as her cheeks tinted a brighter pink before she leaned back across him once again to replace the wand on the nightstand. Her body once again taunting him with the closeness of her tantalizing curves. He had to use every drop of self control not to pull her skin into his mouth. A faint sheen of sweat on her tanned skin from the warm night. Ron licked his lips, wondering if the flesh hovering just above tasted as wonderful in real life as did in the millions of fantasies he'd indulged in.

He didn't know if it was just his rapid heart rate or perhaps the pleasure of the moment begging to be stretched further to his sharpened senses but he could have sworn Hermione hovered above him much longer this time around. Taunting him with the rise and fall of her deep breaths that seemed to implore him to draw the warm skin into his mouth and knead the flesh gently with his tongue.

She met his gaze as she slowly dragged her body downward, staying much closer to him as she returned to her relaxed position then she had before. He felt the skin of her stomach against him as her shirt bunched up beneath her bosom. Ron couldn't resist the siren call the softness of her skin created for him. He ran his fingertips gingerly along the small of her back then slowly grazed his knuckles across the side of her belly before resting his open palm along the ridge of her lowest rib. A tentative smile playing on her lips, both lost in the moment of being together.

"Yeah, I was just getting this to pull up my hair," she muttered breathlessly her eyes studying him. "So you won't have it in your face all night." Ron felt a thrill go through him. _'all night'_ she would be this close to him all night long. She rested her elbow on the bed and shifted her weight onto it as she nimbly worked her fingers through the wild mane bursting out in all directions into a mostly smooth pony tail in the back. Ron's heart sank, he loved her exuberant hair, he wanted to run his hands through it and have it tickle his skin as he held her.

She leaned her body against him again, snuggling into his neck just as before. He moved his hand to her newly managed hair and tugged at the elastic. She lifted herself up and looked at him as his finger looped around the thin cord and pulled slowly. He watched her lick her lips again causing his member to twitch in anticipation.

"I like it down." He whispered as he finished releasing her hair once again to it's former state of disarray. He dragged his fingertips along her back as he moved and she closed her eyes as a shiver ran through her.

"Alright," she answered softly, eyes still closed. Her silence made him feel brave somehow. Usually he was more comfortable with their arguing and flirtatious banter, a constant dance to test the water of their sexual tension. Tonight felt different some how, speaking of wanting to fall in love, of being in love, dreaming of a future and a family. It all just seemed so possible with her wrapped in his arms.

He placed the hand not cradling the delicate sloping curve of her waist at the base of her scalp and began to fluff back out the curling mass of hair. He really did love her hair. Ron always thought it was perfect on her. As wild and as unmanageable as she herself was. His chest doubled in size as she rested her head on his shoulder and released a long sigh.

_'Mental note to self, play with hair!' _and so he did . For the next few minutes he just reveled in the soft feel of her tendrils curling between his fingers. His grin grew wide as every time he grazed his fingers along the crest of her ear she would hum softly into his chest.

Her warm fingers meandered along the skin of his chest, moving in slow circles causing his breath to catch. He would never get over the feel of her touching him. The hundreds of times he'd imagined it didn't come any where near resembling the ecstasy he felt at actually having her curled along side his body.

Her movements began to concentrate on a small area along his rib and she quietly asked.

"How did you get this?"

"What?" He muttered, her questioned forcing his mind outside the fantasy he was indulging in.

"This scar here," she tapped the place she'd been touching. "how did you get it?" Ron thought for a moment.

"Department of Mysteries I think, the whole nights a bit of a blur after a certain point but that whole side of my chest was bandaged so prolly then I suppose." What she did next lit his body on fire. She rubbed it for a moment with her thumb before leaning over and kissing his blemished skin with her plump moist lips. He let out an involuntary groan of pleasure before his brain could stop him. The place where she had placed her lips felt as though it had been burned by desire.

She moved her hand to his arm, to the circling scars also left that night. She lifted herself off of him and kissed that scar as well. Several times she let her lips press delicately on his skin peppering his arm with searing points at the contact. Ron could hardly breath any longer, each attempt to take new air into his lungs required intense concentration.

He wanted her, he had wanted her for as long as and even before he understood what that meant. Then like all his wild imaginings come true there they were, lying in his bed together, his arms wrapped around her, hands resting on her warm skin as she placed long languid kisses along his body. He was in pain from the pleasure of it, his desire straining in the cotton casing of his pajamas. He both couldn't stand it and wouldn't do anything to stop it at the same time. He wouldn't give up any portion of this stolen moment with her for anything in the world. Nothing in his life had felt better than just lying there with her.

His body convulsed with a small jolt as her hand moved to his hip bone. _'Merlin's saggy left nugget she can't be there right now!' _Her forearm hovered just a hair above his groin, causing his face to flush with what he knew was a deep shade of red. She ran her thumb along what he knew to be the top of a crescent shaped formation of scars.

"Hermione," he muttered breathlessly. Not having any sentence formed in his head, just calling out her name because he needed to. She either understood or ignored him because she didn't answer him. Instead she pulled the upper edge of his bottoms down several inches, exposing the rest of the scar. She fingered the arc lovingly with her soft caress.

"From Sirius?" She asked, knowing the answer for she had been there when he'd been dragged into the passage beneath the whomping willow.

"Yeah," was the most he could muster saying under the intoxicating effects of the contact her hand on his hip were having. She presses her body against him, her forearm deliberately or not was now pressing against his tightened organ, and he placed a feather soft kiss to the arc of teethmarks along his hip. He couldn't have told you his own name at this point, his brain was so clouded by lasciviousness.

"Hermione." his voice was husky and dripping with lust as he moaned her name. How did this happen? Moments ago wasn't he eliciting moans as he caressed her hair? Now instead of being on his side with her weight leaned on her, his back was pressed firmly on the bed beneath him and she was moving above him while he melted into a puddle of pleasure under her inspection.

"Yes Ron," her voice low and expectant. What was he going to say to her? He had called out her name in a moment of euphoria. She took up her former position of her chest pressed against his and she looked at him expectantly. He didn't know what to do or say, his brain was enveloped in a thick haze preventing rational thoughts from forming.

"Thank you," he mumbled, unable to think of anything else to say. He watched her cheeks flush with color and he his chest grew to bursting at it. He loved her, every bit of him knew that. The idea of anything he said or did causing her perfect cheeks to color sent his heart beating furiously.

"You're welcome," she whispered as she fingered the small scar on his chin. It wasn't an interesting scar like the others she'd touched. It was a small barely visible white line just below his lip. "And this one?" she asked as her thumb moved back and forth across it. "You've always had this one, for as long as I can remember. How did you get it?" Her eyes were fixed on the small scar as she touched him. How he wished it had a more thrilling tale than the truth.

"I was flying Charlie's broom, I was seven I suppose. Wasn't more than a few feet off the ground and I lost control. Hit my chin on a rock when I fell." Merlin how he wished it was a sexy story about facing a death eater or rescuing someone. Instead it was just _'I fell on my face'_.

"I like it," she whispered before doing what Ron hadn't dared dream she'd do. She pressed her lips against it. Her lips were gloriously soft on, well not his lips exactly, more like his lip. Just the lower one. His mouth had been parted slightly and she encased only his bottom lip with her own. _'Was this a kiss, like a _real_ kiss or was this just a scar kiss?' _he felt small pull of pressure on his lip, like a gentle sucking almost. He felt a soft moist flick of something, was that her tongue? But before he had a chance to process what was happening she was done.

She wouldn't look him in the eyes afterwards, instead she seemed intent on looking anywhere but his eyes. His mind seemed suddenly sharp after what he could only term as the maybe kiss. The last thing in the world he wanted was for her to be embarrassed about that. He'd loved it, and would willingly fall off a hundred broomsticks if only to relive that single second again. He felt himself panic as she started shifted her weight off of him. _'No, no no no no! This isn't ending yet, I need you, this hasn't been enough!'_ His mind thought as a flood of panic washed over him.

The thought of loosing this precious stolen moment with her made him bold. Without thinking his actions through entirely he pressed his hand on her shoulder and pushed her down onto to bed, effectively switching their positions so she was now on her back and he was on his side leaning into her. She let out a small yelp of surprise and gripped her hand around the fabric of his waistband for support.

Neither of them said anything and Ron sheepishly avoided her eyes as his actions replayed in his mind. Did he really just forcibly push her onto his bed beneath him? He felt foolish and was about to mutter an apology when he noticed her wide smile. He couldn't contain his joy at the thought of her enjoying being thrown down onto his bed, he felt a childish giddy ripple through him and unable to help himself, buried his face in her neck. He could feel the grin on his face but was powerless against his euphoria. The idea of her wanting to be there with him, of fancying this even half so much as he was, exhilarated him in a way he didn't even know was possible.

He kissed the soft skin of the hallow of her neck without thinking about it, his body just needing to do something with all of his sudden pent up urgency. If he thought this kiss would lessen the need he felt for he he was sorely mistaken. She responded with a vigor he hadn't anticipated, gripping his bottoms tightly and pulling him down flush against her. Before he even had a chance to blush at the close contact his straining sex had with her body she wrapped her leg around his, hooking it around his knee. If he thought he couldn't think before, it was nothing to the stupefying haze engulfing him now. Her leg curled around his body, was the single most erotic thing he'd ever experienced in his 17 years of life. Better than any magazine he had stashed under his bed, better than anything he'd done in the 5 mo with Lavender Brown, that small act from his brilliant best friend just did him in.

He let out a load moan of pleasure just before pressing his lips to her neck again. Finally doing what he'd been fighting against all night, and he pulled at her skin, drawing it between his lips softly. He flecked his tongue out, tasting her. She didn't taste particularly like anything he could identify, he just knew he wanted to taste her again, and again, and again for the rest of his life. She let out a low moan as he moved slowly up her neck. He felt her fingers entangling in the shaggy hair at the base of his neck and it sent a shiver down him. Her other hand moved along the fabric on his hip, hooking her thumb inside the band of his bottoms. A string of words he would never let his mother hear him say raced through his mind as she moved her hands. Every time he thought things couldn't become anymore amazing they just did.

He hit the hallow behind her ear and as he slowly nibbled at her skin he heard for the first time in his life Hermione mutter a string of words he would also never let his mother hear. There had been a discussion once in his 5th year about whether or not swearing was a turn on. He'd been firm in his opinion that it wasn't because he just couldn't fathom his Hermione doing such a thing and therefore couldn't see it being a turn on. He had been an idiot he quickly concluded. Something about his proper, well behaved best friend being so lost just by his touch that she rattled off a string of profanity was most definitely a turn on.

The hand he'd kept relatively still on her rib, unsure of exactly what to do with it, moved downward. Unable to keep his hands from roaming along the heat of her skin any longer, he felt it safest to mimic her own actions towards him. He rested a hand on the curve of her hip and ran his own thumb along the inside fabric of her lowers. Instead of meeting the cotton fabric he'd encountered the previous night his thumb encountered something much different.

The texture was all wrong, not wrong actually just unexpected. It was smooth and silky instead of soft worn, and it seemed to have already come to an end. He looped the small string of fabric with his thumb and pulled on it slightly, confused by what he was holding. He stopped moving, his body froze as the realization of what it was washed over him.

No way, this was proof it was all only a fantastic dream. His Hermione worn soft cotton knickers, he'd once seen a pair of lace onces and he'd been peeking when he shouldn't have been. That small image alone had driven him crazy but at least it was within the realm of reality. This though, this wasn't even something he'd envisioned on her in even his raciest of dreams.

This was something he knew to be exclusive to muggle woman. He and Neville hadn't believe that it was something girls actually wore until Dean had produced an unmoving muggle magazine as proof. More recently he'd seen a pair on the curvaceous backside on a muggle poster affixed on Sirius's wall as they search his bedroom. It was a pair of knickers that should hardly be called a pair of knickers at all. Just a bit of string and small bits of fabric. Yet somehow just those particular bits and string were intoxicating. He found himself mesmerized by it each time he encountered it. Now, to his absolute amazement, was tangible evidence of the reality of it's existence on none other then his Hermione.

"Bloody hell," he moaned into the skin of her neck before he wrapped his fingers around the string, holding on to it like it was his only hold on reality. To her credit, Hermione's breath hitched audibly as he did so and she moved her own hand slowly toward the curve of his backside.

He had surely died. That was the only explanation that seemed plausible to him. He had died in the raid at Bill and Fleur's wedding, had been in limbo in the weeks since and had only now just arrived in heaven. Nothing in all of his life had been this wonderful. Lavender had repeated groped his arse in their time together and while he'd enjoyed it, there was no comparison to Hermione's flat palm curving at the edge of his buttocks and hip. He hadn't even moved her hand all the way to cup it completely and it was better then Lavender's insistent man handling.

Yes, he had most definitely died and gone to the most wonderful heaven imaginable.


	5. part 5 of 5

Title: The Fine Line part 5 of 5

Fandom: Harry Potter

Characters: Hermione/Ron

Prompt: 34 – Not Enough

Word Count: 1189

Rating:T

Summary:Ron/Hermione missing moment. Another night together at Grimmauld place, Hermione asks to sleep with Ron to ward off more nightmares and Ron is happy to oblige.

Author's Notes:Notes: This was going to be a one-shot but it was so long I couldn't even handle the idea of proof reading all 10,000+ words so I opted to split it up each time there is a pov switch. I'll post them as I finish proofing them. I think this is they shortest one, but you have to start somewhere yo!

If you enjoy missing moments please join our LJ community! .com/themomms/

**The Fine Line**

part 5 of 5

No romantic story, no racy conversation, no scientific text had prepared her for this. She recognized that the words they'd used to describe it were the best fit there was but it didn't even come close to what _this_ was. This was new, the things they were doing crossed a line you couldn't go back on. Everything else could have be explained away. Hugging a friend, seeking solace in their arms, rubbing their back, those were all things a friend could do. Nibbling on your friends ear while fingering her knickers was not something you did with a friend.

She supposed she'd started the line crossing with the whole scar kissing thing, but it hadn't felt like crossing a line at the time. No, it had _felt_ like it, it had exhilarated and entranced her to feel his heartbeats quicken as she touched him, to hear the gasp of shock as she adjusted his pants to kiss his scar. It had definitely _felt_ like crossing a line when she kissed the scar low on his hip. She couldn't believe her own bravado at the memory of pulling on his lip as she did so. But kissing a scar was a kin to kissing away a boo-boo, like a child asking his mother to kiss the pain away. As intimate as their interaction had been it had still been rooted in something that could be seen innocently.

This though couldn't be left at just friendship, they had crossed that line for the first time in their 6 years of knowing each other. In their 3 year long dance around that line they had now just crossed it, and yet, it unsettled her how not crossed it was. Not officially at least, it's not that you could explain away the tongue Ron was grazing along her collarbone or the hand she was at this moment moving further along the curve of his backside. Sweet mother of merlin is arse felt good cupped in her hand like that! It's just that it wasn't a kiss.

Weren't they doing all of this backwards? Didn't necking come after the chaste kiss at the end of a date? She understood he couldn't really take her on a trip to the cinema and badly attempt to put his arm around her, but it still felt strange that he would kiss the skin all along her throat but not her lips that were begging for him.

Her thoughts were distracted as he moved his hand to cup her own bottom. _'Oh that's why I wore the sexy knickers'_ she thoughts as she felt his hand curve alone the bare skin of her backside. She felt her dripping desire pool between her legs and she tightened her leg around his, pressing herself against him.

She garnered a wicked sense of pleasure and satisfaction from feeling _it_ straining against her thigh. Part of her knew it wasn't that big of a deal, from what she understood a man routinely got an erection at the drop of a hat. That lying on a bed with a woman would easily elicit that sort of reaction from any healthy heterosexual male. But this wasn't just any bed, it was his bed, this wasn't just any woman this was Hermione, and this wasn't just any heterosexual male this was her Ron. So having the evidence that she'd elicited that sort of response from him thrilled her beyond anything else imaginable.

He wanted her. She may not be sure of every aspect of their relationship but she was concrete in her knowledge that Ron's body craved her sexually. Laying in bed with _her_, she wasn't just a brainy bookworm, she was a woman. She was a woman he wanted to nibble and caress and grope and hopefully all sorts of other pleasurable yet unmentionable things. She had long since tired of just being his best friend, it was a role she loved and wouldn't give up for anything but this, this _something_ more that didn't mean they were giving it up at all, just building on it as a foundation for whatever it was they were becoming.

His lips moved heartbreakingly slowly, and it was glorious. He took his time as though relishing every moment. His lips sucked gently an the curve of her jaw line and she knew he was making his way to where she longest for most. Not another kiss on her cheek or the side of the mouth, not another maybe halfway one lip/scar kiss. He moved her hand from cupping her back side, gingerly moving along her skin and she enjoyed the languid unhurried moment of just being with him. As he moved his hand along her he was made his way up to kiss her.

Kiss her like she'd been dreaming about since that day in the laundry room at the burrow when they had that asinine argument about folding socks. She'd wanted to press him against the wall just to know what his lips tasted like and there hadn't been a day since between that summer of the Quidditch World Cup and today that she hadn't played out some fantasy of what this, of what was finally and truly about to happen.

He stopped his methodical ministrations just before he reached her lips and pulled back, for a moment she began to feel the bitter edge of disappointment creep over her but it was washed away as quickly as it had come by the nervous and excited look of love etched on his face. His hand cupped her cheek, caressing it with his thumb and he leaned forward, keeping his eyes on hers as if he were watching for any signs she might give that this wasn't alright. She made sure he didn't find any, instead she found herself licking her lips. She leaned upward slightly, hoping to close that fractional distance between them.

"Hermione, I lo-"

Then of course reality came waltzing in, it took the form of a blood curdling scream from the floor above them. Without a moments hesitation they were both on their feet, wands in hand and heading for the door into the hall.

20 minutes later when they were finally settling back into bed the mood was completely different. It was fairly difficult to maintain any sort of romantic feeling while attempting to wake up your screaming best friend from what must have been a truly horrific nightmare. It was hard to begrudge Harry for disturbing their moment since they didn't have to relieve some of the horrific things he had to. But all the same, there was a tangible air of disappointment settling between them as they sank back onto Ron's bed.

It wasn't the same. Yes his arm was still around her, yes she was still snuggled into his chest but the build up was gone. Ron closed his arms tightly around her and pressed his lips to her forehead instead of where they both wanted his kiss placed.

"Good night Hermione," he whispered softly to the darkness.

"Night Ron," she answer back.


End file.
